


Beast of Venery

by bagheerita



Series: hart [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Blood, Character Death, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Gags, Hurt No Comfort, John Sheppard Whump, M/M, Post-Canon, Rape, Runners (Stargate), Vomiting, Wraith (Stargate), established John/Todd, mild tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 10:02:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29997711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bagheerita/pseuds/bagheerita
Summary: On what was supposed to be a routine mission to a Genii outpost, Sheppard finds himself waking up a prisoner of a Wraith Commander and set to undergo an array of torturous experiences.
Relationships: John Sheppard/Original Stargate Wraith Character(s)
Series: hart [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2206641
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. Run

**Author's Note:**

> From Wikipedia: [The hart was a "beast of venery" representing the most prestigious form of hunting, as distinct from lesser "beasts of the chase"](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hart_\(deer\)).  
> Continuing on a theme, [each chapter is titled with a word that doubles as a collective noun used for animals](https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/Appendix:English_collective_nouns).  
> This is set post canon; I'm not counting Legacy as canon but I do make vague references to the existence of Keller's retrovirus.  
> 
> 
> If you're here because you read my other stories or are on an update list, for the love of God please read the tags before proceeding.

John groans and opens his eyes to discover he's in a completely empty room. He's been stripped of his weapons and gear. Which is about par for anything involving the Genii honestly, and he supposes someday he'll learn that even being suspicious isn't enough with this lot. At least he can be fairly certain that Ladon wasn't directly involved, as John had been riding herd on some biologists visiting a Genii outpost; they'd been shown around by a Commander Horran. John's concerned about the scientists, and the newbie team he'd been overseeing, but his concerns get a bit more immediate when the door to the room opens to reveal a Wraith.

John scrambles to his feet and backs away. His hand goes automatically to his holster, but his Colt is, as previously established, gone.

The Wraith is seven feet if he's an inch and built like a brick wall. Long hair is tied back into a single tail down his back, and his sneer of contempt is rather distractingly ornamented by a tattoo that looks like a fishhook has caught him through the right side of his mouth.

"You are the man of Atlantis," the Wraith says in a way that John does not like the sound of. "I have been waiting a long time for this." He comes forward.

It's not like John's expecting it to be a long conflict, but even though he's ready to give as good as he gets, the Wraith punches him right across the jaw, and everything goes black.

* * *

When John comes back to himself, he's on the hive.

Hook has a hand fisted in John's jacket and is dragging him along the passageway of the hive. He drops John in a heap next to some sort of table, then other hands are grabbing him and pulling him up, throwing him over the table until he's lying on it facedown. Hook pulls John's jacket down, twisting it so that it traps his arms, and tears the back of his shirt open so that his skin is bare along the top of the spine.

"That is a useful garment," another voice says, and the two Wraith laugh. Hook is pinning him down as the other Wraith leans over John, and John, suddenly and viscerally realizes where he is and what's happening.

He tries to jackknife his way out of Hook's grip, fighting the implantation of the tracking device, but rather than gaining any bit of release, mostly he just annoys the surgeon Wraith who snarls, "Keep him _still._ "

Another Wraith comes and holds John's legs down, Hook grabbing him by the hair and forcing his head down to the table. The surgeon cuts him open along his spine, just above his shoulder blades; it feels like fire is lancing over his skin, and then inside of him as well. He's pretty sure he's screaming as he feels the strange foreign body of the device placed inside of him, but it happens fast. The surgeon must be good as the procedure is over even quicker, John slapped with a bandage over the resealed skin and dragged into another room almost faster than he can process what's happening.

He's thrown in a cell with a couple other prisoners who eye him warily.

John makes his way to a wall, and with that at his back takes a moment to scan the faces. He's relieved that none of them are familiar to him; he can hope that the rest of his group made it back to Atlantis. That this was somehow a targeted attack against him. Not great, but better than anyone else getting hurt.

He reaches and touches his fingers to the wound on his back, just below his neck. The "bandage" covering it is a Wraith concoction rather than anything he'd be comfortable giving that description to; it's squishy, but the outside of it seems to have hardened into a firm shell. The wound area is a lot smaller than he'd thought it would be, which just reinforces the idea that the surgeon has done this enough to be well versed in the operation. Three of the other prisoners have a bandage on the their upper back as well.

John closes his eyes for a moment. Todd has claimed that he and John are bound together with some sort of telepathic link. John's been of the opinion that it's mostly bullshit, any "telepathy" actually just being the fact that Todd is a consummate showman, but he'd been too okay with that being a part of their foreplay to question it. How it's supposed to actually work isn't something John's asked about. Todd's claimed that it should work for John to get a sense of him as well, though mostly only when they're at least within the same planet's vicinity of each other. John has no idea where in the galaxy he is, but it's worth a try, especially as he's in a situation when he wouldn't mind having a way to telepathically alert someone to his location.

He tries to reach in and think about Todd, but he doesn't feel like it does anything. He opens his eyes. Speaking of regrets, it might have been worth it to volunteer for Keller's latest round of retrovirus testing. It would mean one less way to die that he needs to be worried about.

John looks at the other prisoners. John makes eight in their group, and they're mostly men with one woman, all athletic looking. What he knows about Runners is rather limited; Ronon doesn't talk about the procedure of it very much, and what Keller had learned from Kiryk was even less. He's not sure if he'll be kept here for a while as each potential Runner is tested individually, if they'll be dropped each on different planets, or what. How worth it might it be to try to encourage them to band together and turn on the Wraith, or will they ever be somewhere where that's an option?

The other prisoners are all not looking at each other. John opens his mouth to say something.

The door opens and three Wraith walk into the cell- Hook, a shorter Wraith with a pronounced widow's peak, and another tall fucker with a tattoo that looks like the design of paisley cloth.

"All, come this way," Widow says, poking the seated prisoners with a stun rifle until they get up and start filing out of the cell and down a passageway.

John stands slowly, fading to the edge of the group. If he can break off from the others somehow, he can steal a dart. He wonders if they're taking the prisoners to a transport.

Apparently, they're not, as he catches sight of the glow of an activated Stargate around a curve in the passage. John steps to the side, about to duck down another passage, but halts as he feels a hand snag in his jacket. He looks up to see Hook grinning down at him.

"You are very clever, yes, Atlantis man?" He turns to say to Paisley, "This one is mine."

Paisley gives a hissing laugh. "You prefer a challenge, brother. That one will give it to you."

Hook's laugh is deep and growly. He drags John to the Stargate by his jacket.

The Stargate takes them to a planet that's familiar to John and which makes his blood run cold. The Stargate is set in an open area, but all around them is thick jungle, and, though he can't see it at the moment, he knows there are crystalline entities living on many of the trees that are Bad News. Hook throws him at the group of prisoners. In clear daylight the prisoners look like even less of a challenge against the five Wraith present.

The Stargate portal disengages and before any of the humans can act, Hook grabs the prisoner closest to him with his left hand. Three of the other Wraith follow suit, all of them grabbing one of the prisoners that hasn't been implanted with a tracker. Widow stands by the Stargate holding his stun rifle and grinning in anticipation.

John takes a step back, the other remaining prisoners edging away from the Wraith. "You may run," Hook says, almost conversationally, his voice booming over the clearing. "You have until I'm done eating before I chase you." He grins and brings his right hand down on the prisoner he holds. The men scream and the Wraith roar in delight as the other hunters follow suit.

John looks at his fellow Runners, but none of them look interested in talking and they are all running toward the forest. John hisses under his breath but follows.

He's been to this planet before, so he knows what lies in the forest south of the gate and so heads east and north. He pauses once from behind the line of trees to look back at the Wraith. Hook is done with his snack and is already on his way, headed straight for John.

John snarls under his breath as he starts running. He should think about trying to set a trap. There's no way he's going to outrun this guy. He's not sure what happens when he gets caught. It's possible he gets eaten, though it seems like the implantation of the tracker was overkill for how short of a time he's going to have it.

The soil here is frustratingly free of rocks he can grab as weapons, and when he hears Hook gaining on him John isn't prepared to meet him. He hides on a slight rise, behind a tree with one of the crystal entities.

Hook is moving fast, like he knows he's hot on the tail of his quarry, and right at the moment he stops because he realizes he's lost the trail, John drops on him. His heavy boot connects with Hook's cheek, snapping his head around to the side, though unfortunately not hard enough to break his neck. John lands on him bodily, scrambling for the Wraith's weapons, but even as he finds the hilt to a knife Hook turns the table on him, grabbing John and throwing him back against one of the trees hard enough to drive the breath from him.

He's sucking air and trying to stand up when Hook's left hand snares him by the front of his jacket. He grins, delighted. "I knew you would satisfy," he says, his voice a soft purr.

John grinds a handful of dirt in his eyes.

Hook snarls in annoyance, throwing John against the tree again as he tries to clear his vision.

John scrambles to his feet and tries to start running, only to be caught up short as Hook grabs hold of his ankle.

Chuckling, Hook reels him in, until he's leaning over John, pinned to the ground under him. He shrugs off John's kicking and punching at him, though he does eventually seem to get annoyed as he releases John and reaches to get something out of his coat.

John takes the opportunity to try running again, even dropping his jacket when Hook snags it another time, but Hook grabs him by the wrist and pulls him around. "Such fight." He sounds excited.

He drags John with him as he walks deeper into the forest, John stumbling to keep his feet and trying to wrench his arm free. When Hook arrives at what he seeks it seems to be a slight rise of open ground. Hook takes the object he'd pulled from his coat and smashes it against the ground. It immediately sprouts into a slimy mass of writhing vines. Hook pulls John to the ground, shoving him down on his back, Hook kneeling over John's thighs as he struggles, and presses both his wrists into the writhing vines.

The vines wrap tightly around John's wrists, and he can't free himself. The more he struggles, the tighter the vines feel like they're holding him. He lays there, inhaling deep, gasping breaths, as Hook trails his right hand down John's chest. He's still wearing his t-shirt and John closes his eyes as he feels the Wraith's long nails catch at the fabric. He clenches his teeth, prepared for the Wraith to feed on him.

But Hook shifts his attention to his left hand, which he brings down to cup John's groin, and John inhales sharply, opening his eyes to look at Hook wildly. "No," John says, though even as he says it he realizes that that's exactly what Hook seems to want from him.

Hook grins at his denial and his long nails sink into the cloth of John's BDU's, tearing his pants open to leave him exposed. His blood is pumping from the running and everything, but it's not like he's even half hard, given the circumstances. Hook strokes his hands over John's thighs, through the thick hair of his groin, circling and cupping his limp cock.

John snarls and thrashes, but he's well pinned.

Hook chuckles, his right hand rising from John's chest to stroke his neck and throat. "You really are exquisite." He dodges John's attempt to bite his fingers and draws one of the vines down to circle John's neck, just under his jaw, and jerk his head back. John swallows uncomfortably around the pinion.

Hook eases off John's legs, no longer interested in pinning them down with his own weight, and bends them over John's head, so that he's practically folded in half. The vines twine around his ankles and shins, and despite how he kicks he can't free himself.

He exhausts himself unsuccessfully fighting the bindings, and lays there panting as Hook strokes his chest and abdomen affectionately. John closes his eyes and grits his teeth again, though for a different reason.

Hook's hands find their way down to his ass, spreading his cheeks to expose his hole. The Wraith makes a pleased sound and probes the opening with his thumb.

John flinches and shudders. God, he does not want to think about what is happening.

He hears Hook opening his own pants but doesn't look. He's familiar enough with Wraith anatomy that he doesn't need to and, though he doesn't know if Wraith operate on the same level, he's not going to give this shit the satisfaction of admiring or fearing his junk.

But all his resolutions to remain stoic fade when Hook barely preps him, only smearing enough precome around in his hole to facilitate the physical insertion of his cock, and John's entire body arches in denial as that thick cock pushes into him.

It hurts so much he can't even breath at first, and by the time he can Hook is moving, pounding into him, so that John can only grunt as he tries to process the pain. Hook is grunting as well, in pleasure as he sinks into John's flesh, and John shudders.

The ridged, fat length of the Wraith's cock burns as it works its way in and out of him, and John refuses to think of Todd, not wanting to bring any part of that into this moment.

"Are you not enjoying yourself?" Hook asks, the words a sneer. His right hand slides under John's shirt, moving up over his abdomen to John's chest and, as much as he tries to prepare himself, John is not ready for the Gift of Life to roar into him.

It wasn't what he was expecting, and the pleasure of it fills him entirely. In the span of a moment he finds the pain lessened and he's grunting with desire as he tries to move to meet Hook's thrusting hips. He's giddy with it, lightheaded, it feels so good, and Hook's left hand is wrapped around John's cock, hard now, as Hook pauses in his thrusting to sit with John entirely filled with him as the Wraith strokes the sensitive head of John's cock until John is bucking under him, crying out with how good it feels, wanting more.

Hook croons down at him, stroking John's thighs as he fists John's cock, and John remembers enough to hate the Wraith, and himself, and everyone involved in this moment, before the vine curled around his throat curls tighter, and he chokes.

He's not sure what Hook does to signal it, but the vine stops trying to choke him around his neck, and instead pushes itself into his mouth. It's a fat curve of something that doesn't actually taste plantlike, but it forces its way into his throat, and John gags, inhaling desperately through his nose. It pulses as it seems to expand in his mouth and throat, and he panics on a level that seems deeper than conscious thought. He can't breathe, but he can feel Hook touching him.

After what feels like an eternity the vine is suddenly gone, and John lies there, gasping as he breathes weakly and tries to fight the blackness that's edging in around his vision.

Hook starts moving again, his left hand still rubbing gently at John's cock, and it's too much. He's being attacked at every point, and John comes, thrusting up hard into Hook's grip, crying and crying out with the force of his orgasm.

Hook grunts approvingly as John contorts around him and continues thrusting, seeking his own climax. John feels too weak to fight him anymore and just lays there bound, keening softly when his overstimulated prostate begins to process the continued stimulation as a reason to try to rouse his cock again.

Finally, after what feels like ages, Hook grunts a final satisfied grunt, jerking his hips tightly to John's ass and spilling inside of him. With another satisfied sound, Hook pulls out and flicks his fingertip against the head of John's half hard cock.

John flinches, gasping.

Hook gives a hissing laugh. He tucks himself back inside his pants and does up the laces. He reaches for the vine trap and disengages it so that it releases John.

John's stiff from being forced to hold the same position so long he can barely move. His body feels like a giant throbbing bruise. He tries to grab Hook's knife and stab him with it.

Hook laughs at him. He pins both of John's wrists in his right hand. "You must make everything difficult, hmm?" he asks, before he reaches with his left hand and circles John's cock again.

It's too much, and it also feels amazing, and John's hips thrust up into the touch almost involuntarily even as his groan of pleasure sounds more like a wounded animal. He tries to pull away, but Hook's hand follows him, determined that he will find his pleasure.

He comes, eventually. At least this time it hurts as much as it feels good, so he feels less conflicted about it.

He lies on the ground gasping in deep sobbing breaths of air, half hoping Hook kills him.

Hook grabs him by a fistful of what's left of his shirt and drags him back to the gate. Widow is waiting there and smirks at Hook. Joining them from the opposite direction is Paisley and the lone female Runner. Her expression is carefully blank, and she doesn't even look at John.

They seem uninterested in waiting for the others, and John wonders if not everyone makes it and that's just a part of the "hunt." He shudders. He's so tired, and Hook's ejaculate is leaking down his leg and inside the still intact portion of his BDUs.

Hook and Paisley toss some sort of small object that looks like a bone, though the results appear to be something like a coin toss, as Paisley immediately dials the gate and takes his Runner and leaves.

After the gate disengages, Widow dials the gate again and Hook drags John toward it.


	2. Grist

The planet they arrive on is one that's unfamiliar to John. The land before the gate is a rolling grassland that stretches away to the horizon. The sun is low in the sky behind the gate, the few clumps of trees throwing long shadows.

Widow turns to Hook and says conversationally, "I found it, while you were busy."

"Ahh," Hook replies, sounding pleased. He holds out his hand, and Widow pulls a small object, like a seed, from his coat and drops it in Hook's hand.

Hook releases his hold on John's shirt. John tries to catch his balance, gather himself to launch some sort of attack, but Hook shoves him so that he falls to his knees. Hook sinks his left hand into John's hair, pulling him up and holding him steady as he presses the object Widow gave him against the corner of John's mouth. 

John tries to pull away, his hands shoving at Hook, his nails scraping at the Wraith's skin, but the object breaks open to reveal a vine-tentacle monstrosity similar to the one Hook had just used to hold him. John flinches more severely, but the thing is already in his mouth. He gags and tries to spit it out, but instead of soft tentacles like the one that'd tried to choke him, this one forms an unyielding ring. It catches against his teeth and seems to hold there, pushing his mouth open and preventing him from closing his jaw.

John tries to pull it out with his fingers, but Hook grabs his hands by the wrists and holds both of them in one of his. He unlaces his pants and draws out his cock. He's just come not twenty minutes ago, but he's close to fully hard again, the flesh dark with the flow of blood but crowned with the brighter green of the ridges that cover the upper part of the shaft. Hook cups John's chin with his right hand and turns John to face him.

John fights him, but Hook's hand just closes more firmly around his wrists, his other hand fisting in John's hair, and he drives his cock forward to fill John's mouth.

John gags, choking as the Wraith's fat length cuts off his air. He flails as he tries to push away from Hook, but Hook's hands hold him still. Hook moans in pleasure, sliding his cock back out and then back in deeper, so that the length of him completely fills the passage of John's throat.

John closes his eyes and tries to breathe through his nose, but he's lightheaded and feels perilously close to passing out. Hook backs off for a moment, and John breathes almost greedily, not sure when he'll have this opportunity again, and then the Wraith's cock is back, dominating his airway. Hook takes one of John's wrists in each hand, lining John up so that the Wraith can pound himself into John's mouth, pulling back and snapping forward as he forces the fat head and thick, ridged length of his cock into John. 

John's face is a mess of snot and drool. He tries, desperately, to bite down and break the ring, but it doesn't even crack. Hook's grip on his wrists doesn't loosen in the slightest. And it's not too long before John can't think about anything other than trying to survive this.

The burning in his throat is so omnipresent it takes John a moment to realize that Hook has ejaculated. Hook grunts in satisfaction, letting go of John.

John falls to the ground, gagging and vomiting. He claws desperately at the ring and finally manages to pull it out of his mouth. His jaw is sore, every muscle and surface in his face burning. He staggers to his feet.

Hook stretches his arms over his head and cracks his spine. He turns to John with a grin, reaching to touch John's cheek affectionately.

John jerks backward in revulsion, taking several shaky steps backward.

Hook laughs. He gestures to the horizon, where the sun is hovering just above it in preparation to set. "I will give you until the sun rises again to evade me." He goes to lie down on the grass right next to the DHD, to all appearances letting John do whatever he wants.

John eyes Widow warily, but the other Wraith just looks back at him, stunner rifle casually slung over his shoulder and hanging down his back. John could take him... but almost certainly couldn't get the rifle up and fired before Hook joined the fight. John doesn't examine why he shies away from the idea of wrestling with Hook for control of the rifle.

John turns from them and starts running through the long grass as quickly as he can.

As soon as the sun fully sets, he turns ninety degrees from his previous course and heads toward a group of trees he'd seen earlier. He needs to see if he can find a weapon, or some advantage. Or even food. He's hungry, even if his throat feels too raw to manage food. And he's worried that if he stops running once the sun sets and the air gets cooler, that his bruises will stiffen up and make moving even more unpleasant. His ass _hurts_ , and he's trying to ignore the panic that threatens to rise in him with every step. He doesn't have time to think about that yet.

The long grass rustles as he moves through it, rubbing like sawgrass against the legs of his BDUs, and after only a short time of darkness two moons rise. John freezes for a moment when he notices the growing light, seized by dread that their rising will bring Hook after him. But apparently when Hook says the sun he means the sun, as John can't hear anyone else moving in the sawgrass.

This grassland is wholly unsuited to finding a place to hide, which is certainly why this planet was chosen. John takes a deep breath and staves off panic. He can do this.

John eventually find a low place in the grasses, likely a dry riverbed, that is a bit sheltered and he stops to rest.

He's found nothing in the way of weapons, but he has half an idea. He still has his boots, with their long laces. Hook had tried to garrote him with the weird vine tentacles; the first ones. He thinks he can exert enough pressure on the shoelaces that they'll cut skin. Wrapped around Hook's throat like a garrote, that will cut off air, and blood flow to the brain, long enough that he can grab Hook's knife. It's his only plan, so he figures it has to work.

He tries to sleep for a few hours. His rest is fitful at best, and the pervading sense of being followed wakes him before dawn. He starts the process of laying a couple trails from his sleeping place to hopefully throw Hook off.

He does pretty well at evading Hook for the morning, laying false trails and taking advantage of a stream and a stand of trees to get out of the grass for a bit, so that the rustling doesn't give him away. But Hook isn't far behind; John can hear him coming through the grass, gaining on John even with the head start and the several false trails he falls for.

John isn't evading as much as he is slowly giving away his lead. He chooses the bank of the stream to confront Hook rather than let the Wraith choose. The trees give him a bit of height get any kind of drop on Hook.

And it works, for half a minute. John drops down on Hook's back, the bootlaces twisted around the Wraith's throat _hard_. He can smell blood, and Hook snarls in anger. John scrambles for the knife. He gets his fingers wrapped around it, draws it, and sinks it into Hook's side.

But Hook is still a Wraith, and he outweighs John by at least a stone. He recovers from the wound too quickly and throws John off him and into the mud on the riverbank. John tries to scramble away, but Hook lands on top of him.

"You are _delightful_ ," Hook purrs. He's panting with exertion, fat drops of blood dripping slowly from where the bootlaces cut his neck to splatter blackly on the mud and on John before the drip trails away to nothing. Hook strokes his thumb over John's cheek. John snaps at him and Hook chuckles. He shifts, pinning John more securely under him. 

John growls, trying to throw him off, but Hook is sitting on John's thighs, spread and pressed flat against the ground. The Wraith can pin John's upper body rather easily with one hand between his shoulder blades. Hook's other hand finishes tearing John's BDU's almost completely into two pieces by continuing his previous tear along the central seam to fully bare John's ass. Hook strokes the curve of soft flesh before trailing his thumb down the line of John's crack, seemingly amused by the hair growing there. John hisses, his throat burning, and writhes under him, his anger twisting like sickness in him with how helpless he is.

As before, Hook prepares John only enough to make inserting himself less of an obstacle. His thick cock is hard and ready, and John wants to scream at the feel of it pushing into him, the fat head breaching into him again. Hook begins fucking John relentlessly without any pause and unlike last time he doesn't seem to care about John's pleasure at all. 

John grunts as he's shoved into the mud. He tries to brace his arms under him and turn his face so that he doesn't breathe it in, but it gets more difficult as Hook fucks him harder and harder. Every exhale is practically a whimper and John grits his teeth and clenches his fists as he tries to just get through it.

It's both worse and better, because it hurts _more_ than anything yesterday, bruises and half healed wounds protesting on top of new ones as Hook forces his way into John, but at least Hook doesn't try to make John _enjoy_ it this time.

Hook comes quicker too, John thinks, though he'd been trying not to focus, so maybe time is relative. The huge Wraith grunts, jerking in satisfaction against John, thrusting deeply before pulling out. He stops to brush his thumb along the rim of John's hole. "You look beautiful with me inside of you."

John shudders in revulsion and tries to pull away. Hook shoves him back down so that he inhales mud, then gets up.

John pushes himself to his hands and knees and crawls up the bank far enough that he's not wallowing in mud, but then a hand between his shoulder blades again pushes him back flat against the ground.

John struggles, but before he's fully comprehended that there's another Wraith on top of him, Widow has parted his ass and pushed into John's hole already gaping open from Hook's assault. John gags and grits his teeth, his hands clenched.

Widow shudders. "He's so warm and loose," he hisses, and his hips snap down, his hand on John's back pushing him into the dirt.

John moans in short breathy catches. Widow's rhythm is sharp and uneven compared to Hook, and John can feel the Wraith's cock stabbing into him, jabbing his prostate repeatedly. Hook hadn't been trying to make him enjoy it, but his body thinks it knows what's happening, and now that the assault continues, it's trying to respond to the stimulation. He can feel himself getting hard, where his cock is trapped against the ground in the torn folds of his BDU's.

Widow pounds into him, and John hears Hook chuckle. "He's enjoying it, aren't you, pet?" he observes. He leans close to stroke John's cheek. John closes his eyes and turns away as much as he can.

He hears Hook and Widow kiss, growling softly to each other, and Widow comes, pulling out slightly so the hot fluid splatters over John's back.

Hook and Widow kiss for a while, but then Widow pushes back in, fucking into John in a way that feels sharp and malicious, the ridges on his cock scraping violently against John's passage, and John shouts in surprise. His hands scramble in the dirt, but Hook is the one holding him down, big had pushing on his back, as Widow's cock shoves into him. John gasps for breath, his body shuddering as he tries to evade the sensation, but he can barely move. Widow is sitting on his thighs and he can only kick his feet helplessly. He tries to reach up behind himself and claw at Hook's arm, but Hook just laughs, grabs John's hand, and folds his arm behind his back. John grits his teeth and keeps his remaining hand under him trying to keep his face out of the dirt so he can breathe.

Widow fucks John until he gets soft, and he pulls out with a final grunt. He and Hook stand close to each other. John curls on his side, panting softly and watching them. Hook and Widow are exchanging affectionate touches, and seemingly discussing something mentally. John wants to shoot them, but he doesn't have a gun; he wants to run, but the abuse and the lack of food and sleep leave a lethargy that sinks into his bones and makes his body feel too heavy to lift.

Apparently done talking, Hook walks over and grabs John by his arm and pulls him to his feet, dragging John into the stream to wash the mud off of him. His BDUs are caked with it, and rather than let John attempt to clean them Hook pulls his knife and slices through the last strands holding them to John.

John tries to grab the long knife, but Hook spins him away and sends him stumbling toward the bank. He almost trips over his pants, which, with the weight of the mud they're holding and the fact that he'd already sacrificed his boots for the failed gambit earlier, slide off him and into the water. Widow catches him just before he faceplants back in the mud. The Wraith turns John around so that he's facing Hook as Hook approaches him, and pins John's arms behind his back.

Hook grins, touching John's cheek. "Did you not enjoy yourself, pet?" He reaches with his free hand to stroke John's cock, sliding back to cup his balls and roll them in his fingers.

John kicks him, pushing back against Widow to get better leverage.

Hook laughs and shrugs off the blow. He takes hold of John's balls, his hand closing around the sensitive flesh tighter and tighter, until John is gasping and begging in a raw voice, "Stop!"

Hook hums happily, releasing his punishing hold on John's balls to stroke them gently. His right hand moves up John's chest. The only clothing John's still wearing is what's left of his shirt, and he braces himself for Hook to tear the rest of it from him, and probably to force the Gift on him. But Hook just continues moving up until his fingers stroke John's throat tenderly, pressing lightly against the soft flesh. It's not painful, but John is ready for that to change any moment. He's not even sure what pain he should brace himself to expect, and finds himself breathing heavily, his throat burning from the inside, gasping for air like he can't get enough even though there's no pressure on his lungs.

Hook's left hand continues playing with his balls, rolling them between his fingers and occasionally scratching at them lightly with his nails. It feels nice, and if this was almost any other situation John would be loving it. But it's Hook, or whatever his actual name is, and John hates him, hates his touch, and hates how much a part of his body _wants_ the climax that Hook's continued attentions promise. He wonders where a sadistic asshole like Hook learned a technique that feels so good, and resolutely does _not_ think about who he'd rather have touching him.

Hook's right hand comes down to join his left, circling John's leaking cock, and John thrusts into the touch, his sensitive flesh desperately seeking more stimulation. Hook's thumb and forefinger make a tight ring, and John thrusts into it, moaning at the pressure that slides down the length of his cock. For a couple strokes John fucks into Hook's hand without the Wraith needing to move at all, until he forces himself to stop, glaring at Hook.

Hook just grins and starts moving, his thick fingers closing tight around John's cock, his thumb rubbing slightly just under John's crown like he knows how sensitive it is, like John doesn't have to scream and beg to tell him.

Hook pulls his climax from him like this, slowly and forcefully. John's a mess, sobbing as he comes and collapsing back against Widow's arms holding him up. His legs lose all ability to support him, and Hook fists his hair, forcing John to look at him as he peers into John's eyes. He seems satisfied by what he finds there.

Widow releases him and John wobbles and falls to his knees.

Hook grabs him by an arm and drags him as they make their way back to the gate. The long grass leaves cuts all down John's legs and on his feet as he stumbles through it.

Once they reach the gate, Hook turns to him and smirks as he sees the bloodied lines all down John's legs. He runs a finger over a cut as Widow dials the gate. "Pets are so fragile," Hook says mournfully. He lifts his bloodied finger to his lips and licks it clean. "One must enjoy them while they last."

John would vomit except his stomach is empty and the prospect of dry heaving sounds too exhausting to be worth it.

The gate forms and John tears his eyes from Hook to look at it. He doesn't want to go through it. But he inhales slowly and walks to the gate.


	3. Smack

They emerge from the gate to a chain of tropical islands.

The wind gently blows the sounds of seabirds around them, and the echo of surf crashing against multiple beaches and shoals. The sun hangs low in the sky in the direction John decides is east; he guesses that it's about midmorning, as the air isn't hot enough for it to be afternoon.

The island where the gate stands is barely twice the length of a football field and half again as wide as its widest point; John can see down the entire length of it as it stretches north to south, the Stargate set around the middle. It's utterly barren of anything except the Stargate and DHD, and a half-rotted log that's sticking out of the sand on the beach. There are many visible islands dotting the water, to the east and west; most are also small, barren spits of sand, but there's a larger land mass blotting out the horizon to the west and southwest where there are thick, tall trees growing.

John hates the way hope rises in him so cautiously. This might actually be a turn of luck for him. The first planet had proved that Wraith can hunt planets with dangerous life forms, though the second one had seemed fairly empty as far as wildlife, and he knows a couple things about what can live in shallow ocean waters. To start with, he can tell by the way the waves crest to the north and west of the Stargate island that there's a sandbar lurking just under the surface of the water about eight-hundred yards out to the northwest.

Hook drags John forward and shoves him the last few steps so that he stumbles into the water. John yells when the saltwater stings the cuts on his feet. The pain is sharp and sudden, and he curls his hands into fists, just barely refraining from glaring at Hook and somehow betraying the hope that he can't stop from quickening in his blood.

"I will give you until you make it to the peninsula before I pursue you," Hook allows magnanimously, jerking his head at the tree-filled horizon to the southwest.

John takes another step into the water. The sand bunches around his toes and his cuts sting in a symphony of pain. He thinks he can see a reef between this island and the next small one to the north. He dives into the water to the north, toward the sandbar.

The sting of the water on his whole body is almost enough to cause him to pass out, but he surfaces and takes a deep breath and dives back under.

Underwater, he can see the reef. It's alive with small fish darting back and forth. John's looking for something in particular, but he's forced to surface and breathe before he finds anything that looks familiar. He hears commotion behind him and looks back to see that his inability to follow Hook's script has negated Hook's initial deal; the Wraith is in the water and swimming after him.

John starts swimming intently for the sandbar. It's close to the reef and he focuses on it.

His feet touch down on the sandbar, and John pushes up to take a deep breath of air before sinking down below the water again. He looks around for the Wraith but gets distracted scanning the reef and cataloging the fish.

Hook snatches his foot, dragging him back till the Wraith can get an arm around him, pinning John's body against his. Hook chuckles, sounding delighted. "You are full of surprises," he purrs, rubbing his face against the back of John's neck before biting him lightly.

John slams his head back, smashing his skull into Hook's nose.

Hook snarls, his hold loosening for a moment. John pushes his feet into Hook's stomach and kicks away. He's disoriented for far too long, losing himself precious seconds, but dives for the reef. He has to surface before he makes it, and Hook grabs him, his hand snagging in what's left of John's shirt and giving John another chance to pull away. Hook regroups too quickly, pulling John back to the sandbank and holding him underwater.

John struggles desperately, but his initial hope is fading, taking with it the energy that the rush of adrenaline had brought. When he quiets in Hook's grasp, the Wraith hauls him up and John's too busy breathing sweet air to fight as Hook holds John's body against him. John can feel the Wraith's cock nudging at his entrance.

Hook releases John to grab him instead by the hips, clawed fingers sinking in as he holds John steady and forces his way in.

John is screaming but ends up swallowing water. It hurts, so much worse- or _still_ , he can't even tell the difference. Hook grabs him by the hair and pulls him out of the water so that his body settles more firmly on Hook's fat cock. John vomits, heaving up the water he'd swallowed. There's nothing else for support, so he has to brace himself on Hook's thighs and arm to keep from falling in the water again. He feels dizzy.

Hook fucks into him, making small growly noises of pleasure. John's body jerks with the force of Hook's pulling out and seating himself over and over.

Hook sinks in finally and stays there, filling John, as John can do little more than throb around him. Hook shifts his hold, wrapping his right arm around John's chest, holding him against Hook's body, and pinning John's arms to his sides. Hook uses his free hand to explore down John's chest, running through the wet hair and down his abdomen, touching his skin and feeling the shape of scars with an unearned intimacy. The Wraith's long nails scratch over John's stomach hard enough to leave bright red marks. He eventually cups John's cock, stroking the soft flesh.

John's body is too exhausted to rise, though Hook murmurs, "You want me, pet. I know it. You want to be brought to this."

John writhes against Hook's hold. It's an automatic revulsion, rejection of Hook's words, but also a last desperate hope that if he can overbalance them it'll send Hook over into the water and toward the reef. Maybe this can still work. Hook growls and snaps his hips against John punishingly but does step backward to keep his balance.

The water gives John a bit of leverage, and he arches his body, kicking with his feet. Hook takes another step back and falls off the sandbar, tumbling over sideways and dragging John with him under the water.

John's first thought is that this was a terrible idea. The arm around his chest is holding him tightly and he can't breathe. He kicks, and tries to work his arms free, but doesn't get far. Hook refuses to release him and seems intent that John will die with the Wraith inside of him.

Death has felt close at hand to John rather incessantly over the past horrific hours that have become days, but never this achingly inevitable, as his body slowly runs out of air. He can't stop himself from thinking about the things he'd tried to not think about, tried not to connect to this experience at all- his team, did the scientists make it back to Atlantis alright, how the city is doing, Todd.

What feels like an eternity later, Hook pushes off against the ocean floor, bringing them back to the surface.

John sucks in the air greedily. Hook's hold on him loosens, and John expands his lungs more, breathing deeply. He gets a foot braced against Hook's thigh and pushes away from the Wraith, feeling a wrenching freedom when Hook's cock pulls free of his ass and they part completely.

John swims to the sandbar and whirls back to keep Hook in his sight. He rises above the water and shakes his head to clear his vision of water.

Hook is hissing and looking at his foot.

A feeling of pure unadulterated victory stabs through John, and he feels like he might pass out. He clenches his hands, trying to cling to consciousness.

Hook snarls and dives for John, but his movements aren't as smooth as they'd been before; when he puts his right leg down on the sandbar the limb doesn't hold his weight fully and the Wraith snarls in pain.

John dives for the knife, snatching it from its sheath and kicking off from Hook's chest as he swims away, putting space between them. He feels more alive in this moment, with a weapon in his hand and freedom from this monster becoming a more certain hope.

Hook lunges for John, seemingly hampered by the water in a way he hadn't been before, and John dives in close. When Hook wraps his left hand around John's arm, his right hand rising in preparation to feed, John raises the knife in his free hand and drives it up under Hook's chin, into the soft flesh between the sides of his mandible, and up into his skull cavity.

John's not sure if the knife is long enough to penetrate brain matter, but he suspects that the creature Hook stepped on- if it's anything like the stonefish that was one of the creatures John had been hoping to find on the reef- has already done the job. He doesn't wait around to find out, shoving Hook's right hand away and kicking off as he tears the knife free. Black blood fills the water in a widening pool, and Hook snarls gutturally. He grabs at John again, but the grab is way off the mark. Hook falls to his knees, slipping under the water, his arms breaking the surface as he tries to swim but can't control his limbs.

John swims toward the nearest big island, one with a few trees and a broad, sandy beach. He keeps an eye on Widow, but the Wraith is pacing the beach of the Stargate island without any apparent interest in entering the water.

Which is probably a good idea. The water is growing thick with marine life, the Pegasus equivalent of sharks scenting the spreading blood in the water and ready to eat.

John sits in the shallow water of the island he'd chosen, watching numbly as the fish circle. He wonders if the Wraith hunt Runners here often, and if that means the fish have tasted Wraith before.

Eventually John pulls himself out of the water. He needs to head inland. He needs shelter and fresh water. But he's so fucking tired, it's hard to care.

He wakes up lying in a patch of shade next to a stream and realizes he fell asleep with his head practically in the water. It's brackish, but the best he'd found. He takes another drink and pushes himself shakily to his feet. He needs food, shelter, better water, clothes. Moving is painful, but lying still is as well, and he has enough distance at the moment to admit to himself that he might also need medical attention. His ass hurts, and there is fresh blood on his thighs when he moves.

He compartmentalizes. Blood is water, and he can't afford to lose that. He pushes away what it means.

John sets out to the edge of his current island. He's not sure how long he slept. He doesn't see any Wraith standing near the Stargate, though it is far enough away that he can't see much detail.

Invigorated by the tempting idea of freedom, John swims to the Stargate island. He's just about to place a hand on the DHD when the ring lights up with an incoming wormhole.

John swears, and dives back into the water, quickly moving himself toward the other end of the island, behind the gate.

A trio of darts whips through the gate, soaring through the clear sky.

John climbs out of the water and hides himself under the curve of the gate. He's not sure how they expect to find him by searching from the air... but his hand touches the back of his neck and he can feel the top of the new scar, and he remembers that they can track him quite easily.

John sprints to the DHD and dials out as quickly as he can. He can't dial Atlantis directly, but New Athos doesn't have a shield. The wormhole forms, and he runs for it.

The whine of the dart passes over him and he has a moment to think that he's not going to make it before everything goes black.

**Author's Note:**

> (The next story in the series is drafted and should be posted as soon as I have time to do editing, like maybe a week or two.)


End file.
